


Enough To Go By

by ZoeWiloh



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Actually most of these people need hugs, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, It's a secret shhh, Jessica and Claire "rescue" Matt, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt and his secrets, Post-Episode: s01e08 The Defenders, Recovery, kind of character study, matt's return
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12563268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeWiloh/pseuds/ZoeWiloh
Summary: Set a month after The Defenders, Matt is finally ready to let his friends know he's alive. Except maybe he's not. He hopes Jessica can help him back into his life, preferably as quietly as possible. After putting his friends through so much, he's hesitant to simply announce his homecoming to everyone. But like always, people are finding out whether he wants them to or not.All Jess can think is, “That bastard owes me for this.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on this for what feels like forever. Just want to note that I know from what we see in the show that wherever Matt ends up it's probably in the city. But I like the idea of him turning up in the middle of nowhere, so just go with me on this one.
> 
> This is probably going to be a very Daredevil-centric story. I prefer to write for series I know inside and out, so Luke is unlikely to make an appearance here and I'm not sure about Danny yet. 
> 
> Title is based on Vienna Teng's song of the same name. _"Would it be enough to live on/If my love could keep you alive"_

The silence in the car was getting ridiculous. Jessica wasn’t even trying to keep up conversation, so Claire was left to just watch as the city dissolved away into suburb and then almost countryside around her. She didn’t get to leave the city often anymore but as much as she wanted to enjoy the passing scenery, her mind kept coming back to the unknown reason she was in the car at all. Whatever it was, it was important enough to warrant borrowing Trish’s car but she had no idea where Jessica was taking them. With a sigh, she asked Jessica again, “Where are we going, anyway? I get you’re not the open book type, Jess, but this is absurd. Why did you ask me to come with you when you won’t even talk to me?”

Jessica’s mouth twisted as she pursed her lips almost into a grimace. “We’re going somewhere I really don’t want to go to alone, okay? I could use the backup,” she answered cryptically.

“Backup?!” Claire exclaimed. “You need backup and you decided to bring _me?_ You know all these super people and you chose _me?_ Sweet Christmas, we’re going to die.”

When all that she responded with was a groan, Claire turned to her, mouth hanging open. With a roll of her eyes, she finally responded verbally, “Not that kind of backup. No danger, promise. He asked me to come alone but…but I don’t think that’s a great idea. We’re almost there. You’ll see.”

Claire couldn’t stop her eyes from bugging out, but sat back in silence. Jessica may never admit it, but she does care about people. Well, some people. And Claire was fairly sure she was one of them. She wouldn’t put Claire in mortal danger when she had better options. Probably.

The rest of the ride turned out to not be much longer. After a slightly more comfortable but still pretty awkward ten more minutes of silence, Jessica pulled the car into a small, dirt area that must have been meant for parking. Taking in the small group of buildings, Claire spied a simple cross adorning the largest one, along with a worn sign that read ‘Sisters of’ with the rest of the name too faded to recognize. “Is this place what I think it is?”

If Jessica had seemed unhappy about their eventual destination earlier, now that they were parked in front of it she seemed to be dealing with some serious doubts. She put the car in park and turned off the ignition before answering drily, “Depends, do you think it’s a K-Mart?”

“It looks like a convent.”

“Then yeah it is.”

“In what universe is this a good idea?” Claire asked slowly in a hushed tone. She went through the potential reasons Jessica could possibly have to bring them here, and while she couldn’t think of many, the few that crossed her mind didn’t seem like great things. Jessica didn’t answer, just curled her face in disgust with a touch of anxiety. “Is this for a case or something?”

She shook her head, still frowning. Claire thought she heard the other woman quietly mutter as she got out of the car, “That bastard owes me for this.” She went to lean on the hood of the car while Claire was still sitting in shock. Eventually, she exited the car and joined Jessica at the hood. The ladies stood there for a moment looking around at the scenery - everywhere but the actual buildings of the convent - before Jessica nodded and pushed off to begin walking for the door.

Jessica approached the door ahead of Claire but then seemed to think about what she was doing and decided to hang back, gesturing for Claire to be the one to try the door.

Rolling her eyes at Jessica’s reluctance, Claire reached for the doorknob but then thought aloud, “Wait. Do convents have lobbies? Do I knock or just go in? Isn’t this, like, holy ground or something?”

Jess was about to say something sarcastic but then stopped to think. Of course she wasn’t sure either. Etiquette for visiting a convent was definitely at the top of the list of things she would gladly admit she had no clue about. That was half the reason she dragged Claire all the way out here. Both women were concerned about how to proceed, and Jessica tried to hide her discomfort by shrugging and replying quietly, “It’s probably unlocked. Just try it.”

“I am not _breaking into a convent_ if you won’t even tell me what we’re doing here,” Claire hissed back at her.

Jessica nodded before rolling her eyes and grumbling under her breath, “I went through enough because of this asshole already.” Claire must have heard her because she gave her a funny look to which Jessica replied, “It’s only breaking and entering if the door’s locked. I think. And why would it be locked? You think they have deep concern someone’s gonna come out here to rob a _bunch of nuns_ of their rosaries and bibles?”

Claire folded her arms across her chest, putting on her most stubborn look. “You open it then,” she said defiantly. The two women both half-glared at each other, occasionally pointing at the other and gesturing to the door, both unwilling to budge.

Claire couldn’t deny she was uncomfortable, so she had no doubt Jessica was far out of her depth. And it showed. Jessica had broken many doorknobs to get into locked places she felt the need to enter, but she seemed hesitant this time and it clearly wasn’t over getting caught. That was Claire’s main concern. She still didn’t know why exactly they were there, so she was obviously reluctant to barge in for some task that Jessica wouldn’t even clarify for her. Besides, Jessica wasn’t the kind of person to show anxiety. Even in the face of danger she often seemed passive, resigned. But right now she was visibly nervous, and that wasn’t doing Claire any favors for her confidence in the situation.

Before either could back down and try the door, it opened with a small woman standing in the doorway. She appeared confused for a moment but then carefully put on a placid expression. “Good evening, I am Sister Joan. Is there something I can help you girls with? Directions, perhaps?”

Claire watched as Jessica blinked several times, unsure what to say, before a smile spread across her face. It was surprisingly convincing, even she almost believed it other than the fact that she had gone from angsty scowl to blank to Miss America speech glow in a blink. “Hi,” Jessica said, drawing out the word in fake cheer. “I received a call from Sister Irene. About my friend?”

A look of understanding dawned on the nun’s face and she stood aside to let them in. “Of course, come in, come in. Allow me to fetch Sister Maggie, she’s been the one primarily looking after him. Just a moment.”

When she left Jessica and Claire in the entryway, both looked around uncertainly. Claire had never visited a convent, so she was sure Jessica never had. Jessica had the same look she always had when she took in her surroundings; a kind of restless analysis, as if positive something was going to jump out of the shadows at any moment yet somehow completely apathetic about the possibility.

Claire was the first one to speak. “So is this really a friend of yours or are you using a different definition than the sister?” She spoke in a whisper but even that volume seemed unfitting in the space, as if even the smallest utterance had no place there.

“Eh, I guess so. And apparently I’m his new bestie if I’m the one he called,” Jessica muttered in the same whispered tone, but much harsher than Claire’s. Though maybe it was the eye roll that looked so intense it must have hurt to perform that pushed it over the edge. “Must have brain damage to call me first,” she mumbled. It would have normally been inaudible, but the silence of the building made the words said under her breath clear as a siren.

Time seemed to drag as they waited for the Sisters’ return. Claire folded and unfolded her arms while shifting foot to foot anxiously. Jessica stayed still, hands in pockets, mentally kicking herself for not bringing a flask of something to get her through this. _Jessica Jones_ was in a _convent._ If anyone deserved a drink right then, it was her.

Claire cleared her throat and it was much louder in the space than she intended. Silence unintentionally broken, she went right into the question bothering her since Jessica invited her along on this bizarre little field trip. “Jess, please tell me what we’re doing here.”

She remained silent. This wasn’t something she could come right out and say. _Hey, funny story, you know the guy we all cared about who was crushed under a building, he actually survived!_ _And for some reason he called_ me _and told me not to tell anyone! Hurray!_

Since Jessica was refusing to explain things, Claire tried to figure it out herself. She had gotten the impression they were there to pick someone up, not just talk to them. All she really knew was that the person was male and had some sort of connection with Jessica that was enough to make her haul her ass this far out of the city to get him. Immediately she thought of someone who fit that description, but she wouldn’t dare to even think about it. He was _dead_ . For so long it had been her job to save him from himself and she found she couldn’t simply turn off that protective instinct, even after he was gone. Maybe _especially_ after he was gone. She knew from experience watching repeated loss in the hospital that denial, while a natural reaction, didn’t make mourning any easier in the long run, so she had put actual effort into believing that there was no way he was out there somewhere. No way he was anywhere but buried under the building she had helped destroy.

It had been almost a month and even though they were still digging, the news stories were beginning to taper off. Rather than daily updates being reported, it was every other day, then barely twice a week. A couple times, she had gathered the nerve to go to the site. To look at the wreckage, just to convince herself there was no way there could be life under all of the debris. Hope was a dangerous thing to play with when the odds aren’t in your favor. And the odds of him making it out of that explosion and collapse alive had to be outrageously, unthinkably, heartbreakingly small.

As sick as it was, Claire was almost hoping she was reading Jessica’s silence wrong. Her determination to fend off hope was fading more every second, and she felt a desperate need to have some other explanation to stop that hope before it could break her. Maybe she had a case that involved this guy and Claire had just been too busy to listen to the details. Maybe Jessica had some long-lost brother or uncle she’d never heard of. Maybe that friend of hers, Malcolm, had gotten drunk and somehow ended up at a convent. Happens to the best of us, right? Yes, surely it was some other man, any other man. There was no way it could be the one man she was afraid to hope it could be. Obviously, she didn’t _want_ him to be dead; that was the opposite of what she had ever wanted for him. But she had to be realistic and not let her heart get away from her. Every second she spent thinking it might be him only exponentially increased the pain that would follow when it wasn’t. It was only rational to keep herself from hoping for the impossible, right?

And impossible was exactly what it was. Her mind sorted through all the obvious reasons it couldn’t be him they were there for. How could he have lived? _Maybe he made it out of that cave in the basement and was higher in the wreckage._ How could he have gotten so far outside the city? _Someone could have seen the Daredevil suit and brought him someplace secret._ Why had he only contacted Jessica? _His old friends hadn’t been the most supportive; Jessica may be his closest friend right now._

 _This_ , this was exactly what she was afraid of. The foolish feeling of hope that was so desperate to believe, it could explain away anything. There was so much hope flooding her now, and she felt as if she would drown in it. But at the same time it felt like if it was taken away she would suffocate. The optimism she had tried so hard to extinguish these past weeks was making her chest hurt as it grew and wrapped itself around her heart.

Claire stared at Jessica, looking tired and scared and almost angry before choking out, “Is it him?”

Before she could respond, the nuns returned. The one who had answered the door stood back from the slightly older woman who came right up to them and bypassed any form of greeting. “I’m sorry, which of you is Jessica? I was under the impression only one person was coming for him,” she said, looking suspicious.

“That would be me,” Jessica said, again sporting her most charming smile. “I hope it’s not a problem, I brought my friend Claire. He knows her as well.”

“Forgive me for my concern,” she said, still looking just as skeptical and not the tiniest bit apologetic. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard him tell the sister who called you very specifically for you not to tell anyone else, much less bring someone along.”

The other sister took a step forward and laid her hand gently on the apprehensive woman’s arm. “Sister Maggie, surely this won’t be an issue,” she said softly. When Maggie only stood still, raising her eyebrows in response to the other Sister, she added, “Perhaps if it would make you feel better, you can ask Matthew if he knows this young lady.”

At hearing his name, Claire almost choked. It was real. He was here. He was alive. She had to force herself to stay still and not take off running through the halls to find him on her own. She reminded herself that she should actually be grateful Matt had someone so dedicated caring for him and standing guard. “Please ask him. My name is Claire. Please, I need to see him,” she begged. She almost continued with describing the ways she had saved him so many times before, but she clamped her mouth shut before she could start rambling away. That would only make this take longer.

Without a word, Sister Maggie nodded and turned away, leaving Claire and Jessica behind. “Please excuse her, girls. We don’t get a lot of guests and Matthew seems to have really brought out some of her maternal instincts. Go ahead and follow behind her and wait outside for her to call you in. I have no doubt he will be fine with you both.”

Claire and Jessica walked to catch up with the Sister heading to see Matt. She was still in view, and both had to fight the urge to run to see him. Jessica had seen what even the idea of Matt being alive had done to Claire, and while she’d never admit it, she had been caught in a similar storm of emotion when she got the news.

Jessica had never needed to battle against hope the way Claire had struggled to do. Pessimism was her default setting, in fact, it was her comfort zone. At some point it became clear that it was simply easier on her psychologically to accept tragedy as it was. There was no bright side or silver lining, there was no alternate viewpoint and rarely any saving grace. She knew there was no benefit in obsessing and dwelling. And when she went down that path, drinking became an even more vital part of her survival. When that building had come down, she had never entertained the possibility of Matt making it out alive. That idiot had committed suicide because he was horny for a homicidal undead chick. No, worse, he was _in love_ with a woman who had killed people close to him and countless others while he refused to take a single life himself, no matter how justified. Dumbass.

He did it to himself and she hated that she cared. He got under her skin in a way that few are capable of, and he had no right to her concern when he so readily threw his life away. So while she never held any misguided hopes that Matt Murdock was alive, it didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat when she got that phone call. She never thought she’d be so happy to get a phone call from a nun of all people.

In a time span of less than a week, they had formed a strong bond that was difficult to shake. The word ‘team’ still made her want to gag, but there was no arguing that was what they had become. Caring about Luke was almost easy for her. But when it all started, she never expected to care about Matt or Danny. Yet that was where she’d ended up. Which was weird. Obviously, Jessica cared about Trish and even Malcolm. And while she would deny it to the grave, she hated the idea of innocent people getting hurt who didn’t deserve it. But that was life. So in the interest of preserving her sanity, she told herself she didn’t care because she didn’t feel like she had the power to do anything significant. She told herself that everyone else’s struggles weren’t hers to fight, but when an entire city was in danger, she couldn’t let herself walk away. And when she let herself care about all the people in the entire damn city, how could she not care about the people she had fought alongside?

In the back of her mind, she had always feared that caring about others would be like a switch she was powerless to turn off again. And in a way it was true when it came to Matt. She believed he was _dead_ and still couldn’t stop caring, especially when she thought about how she was strong enough to have marched over, picked up the stubborn bastard, and carried him out with her. Between her and Luke, they could have incapacitated him if they had realized in time what he was planning. But of course he told _Danny_ to “protect his city”. Danny, the one who felt like he had already failed to protect a city, so of course he let Matt sacrifice himself to protect this one just as he wished he could have done for K’un Lun. So as relieved as she was that he had miraculously ended up alive in a convent rather than in a grave made of dragon bones and a skyscraper’s worth of debris, she was still pissed. It was an unusual combination but Matt tended to have that effect on people.

Finally, the Sister stopped outside a door. Before going in, she turned to look at Claire and Jessica sternly, wordlessly telling them to wait outside. As she let herself into the room and closed the door soundly behind her, the two shared a look. Claire was trying really hard to ignore the nun’s strange protectiveness and just be patient, but for Jessica it was getting old fast. After a bit more than a minute, she returned and nodded, holding the door open for them. After they entered, she gave them a warning look and closed the door to give them privacy.

Matt was sitting up on his bed, back against the wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Claire wanted to let herself feel the joy welling up at seeing him alive, but she had never been good at turning off being a nurse. He looked rough, though that was no surprise. She wasn’t sure how it was possible he made it out, so she couldn’t be shocked that he’d suffered significant injuries. His ribs were still wrapped and she could see the fading evidence of severe bruising just about everywhere. The worst of the cuts were on the sensitive skin of his face and neck, but there were still plenty scattered along his arms and around his collarbone and shoulders. He was wearing long sweatpants but she would be surprised if his legs didn’t also show considerable damage. One of his wrists was wrapped as well; likely a sprain rather than a break but if he was as stubborn as usual about going to a hospital, wrapping it may be the best they could do for him. She made a mental note to check that later. He had dark circles under his eyes and she worried that his healing wasn’t going smoothly. She knew she should be happy he was alive and even vaguely in one piece, but it was hard to see all the same, especially because she knew he was normally a fast healer and it had been almost a month. He should be looking better than this.

When he spoke up, his voice was quiet and ragged. “I didn’t think there were multiple ways to interpret ‘don’t tell anyone else’,” he said without moving or opening his eyes. One of his hands absently picked at the sheet at the edge of the bed.

“Nuns aren’t my people, Murdock,” Jessica said, matching his cold tone. “I needed someone to help get your ass out of here. Preferably someone I could be sure wouldn’t burst into flames walking into a convent. Would you rather I brought Danny? Or maybe your old pal Foggy?”

His face twitched when she said Foggy’s name; it looked like just hearing the name brought him pain. He finally brought his head away from the wall and opened his eyes, directing them down towards his lap. “Sorry. It’s fine,” he whispered. “Thanks for coming.”

“Matt, how-” Claire began before cutting off. She gravitated to his side, lowering herself to sit on the bed. She shook her head, clearing the thought. He could explain later. He looked exhausted and he would likely heal better at home. They had to get him out of here. “Nevermind. For now,” she said softly, making sure he knew that she would be insisting on being filled in later. “Let’s get you home.”

“Well, not home,” Jessica mumbled. When he tilted his head up slightly and Claire turned to look at her questioningly, Jess sighed. “Danny’s been paying the rent for your apartment. Foggy wanted to do it but he insisted it would be less of an inconvenience for him. If you go back there then word will get around pretty quick.”

“How is….everyone?” he asked uncertainly. He still looked moderately uncomfortable with the two of them but was making a serious effort to relax.

“Better than you, apparently.”

“No, did everyone make it out? Is everyone else okay?”

“We all made it out, Matt,” Claire said, laying a comforting hand over his. “You were the only casualty…I mean, so we thought. Misty was badly injured but she’s pushing through it.” His posture already displayed how weak he currently was, but hearing about Misty seemed to make his shoulders sag even more than they already were. If he knew that she was permanently disabled from the event it would only get worse. Knowing he would likely obsess over this new detail, she told him reassuringly, “We can talk about that all later. Let’s just worry about you.”

He heard her heart speed up a little as she obviously attempted to focus his attention away from Misty. It was something she didn’t want to discuss with him so it must be bad. But he didn’t have the energy to wrestle details out of her. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

X

Jessica was momentarily grateful for her strength, or she may have needed help supporting Matt’s weight all the way to the car. He had vehemently refused the offer to be simply carried, insisting that he would leave on his own feet. They compromised, with him half leaning on her as he limped outside.

One of the younger nuns, Sister Irene, had run to fetch his Daredevil costume. Looking at the damage done despite it, Claire speculated over if there was even anything left to salvage, but she still gladly took it from the young sister. She idly wondered where he had even got the thing in the first place. Once upon a time, she had told him his outfit sucked, but this devil getup was the last thing she had in mind for him. He may have embraced the title of devil, but she still had difficulty reconciling it with all the good things she knew about him.

After Matt was comfortable in the back seat - as comfortable as he was capable of being considering his injuries, anyway - Jessica got behind the wheel, and Claire hung back to talk to the Sisters for a moment. Sisters Maggie and Joan were standing just outside the door they had entered through, along with another one who introduced herself as Sister Dorothy. “Sisters, thank you so much for caring for him,” Claire told them. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. But may I ask a question?”

The three Sisters looked at each other and Joan answered, “Of course dear, but if it’s about how he came to us, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can tell you.”

Claire shifted uncomfortably. That had been the gist of what she was hoping to ask. The question of who had saved him and how and why they brought him all the way out here was eating at her. Even if Matt knew the answer to that himself, she suspected he’d be less than transparent on the topic if she questioned him on it. “Why not? Is it some confession-style thing? Is that why you can’t say?”

Sister Dorothy answered, “No, Miss. We just don’t know ourselves. Late one night, we heard noises coming from outside. We found a flashlight to investigate, we came out and found him in his...devil costume, lying in the dirt. It was clear that someone else had brought him; he was too weak to have made it out here from anywhere.”

“I heard a set of retreating footsteps but I couldn’t quite place what direction the sound was coming from. I never saw who left him with us,” Sister Maggie elaborated. She was speaking as if she wanted to be heard, but her eyes were clearly watching Matt over Claire’s shoulder, looking very concerned. Changing the subject entirely, she asked, “Where you take him, it will be safe?”

Claire was starting to get a strange feeling about Sister Maggie. She was still grateful and relieved someone had been keeping such a close eye on him, but the Sister sounded fearful for his safety. “Yes, he’ll be staying with one of us and I’m a nurse so I can treat his remaining wounds. Forgive me for asking, Sister, but you seem quite worried about him, is there something we should know?” She almost felt guilty for being so suspicious towards someone who appeared to care about Matt as much as she did, but she couldn’t help but feel uncertain.

She diverted her eyes to the ground, blinking a few times before answering, “No, no, of course not. He was very safe in our care, I wanted to make sure that wouldn’t change. Please excuse me.” Looking broken up, she turned and departed back into the building. Claire looked after her, confused. Of course he’d be safe, why was this affecting her so deeply?

Sister Joan was the next to speak up. “Don’t worry about her, dear. It’s her nature to be very protective of the people around her, and she felt quite a bond to young Matthew. He has been with us nearly a month, afterall.”

Nodding her thanks to the two remaining nuns, Claire turned and jogged back to the car before Jessica could lay on the horn.

X

The first ten minutes or so were quiet. Matt had his eyes closed in the back seat, though Claire suspected it was so he wouldn’t have to talk rather than because he was actually resting. But maybe he was, because Claire was kind of surprised by how beat up he still was this much later. She hadn’t spent much time since the fall thinking about how bad his injuries would be from the incident considering that she believed them to be fatal and left it at that.

Clearly, she wasn’t at all sure how he made it out, so she couldn’t know what shape he’d been in at first. If his survival was as miraculous as it seemed, he could only have been on death’s door when he was taken to the convent. But when it came to Matt Murdock and his injuries, his distance from death seemed to be measured differently than most. He was strong and had a pain tolerance most people couldn’t begin to comprehend, so she was sure death for him was calibrated on a very different scale. Part of that was him being perpetually stubborn as hell, but she’d always known him to fight just as hard when he was knocked down. Obviously, she’d never known his father, but the one Murdock she did know truly did always get back up, even against all odds.

But Jessica was far less patient than Claire, breaking the silence by crying out, “What the hell, Murdock?” She saw him wince in the rearview mirror, and softened her tone only marginally when she continued, “Seriously, what the hell. Talk.”

Claire noticed that he seemed a little lost as to where to begin, so she gently prompted him, “Matt, how did you get all the way out here?” The curiosity in her tone was still clear, however. “How did you even make it out of there?” She stayed turned towards the back in her seat, watching him carefully.

“I…I don’t really know,” he said. He kept his eyes towards the floor and Claire suspected he was feeling uncomfortable about his eyes without his glasses.

“Bull-” Jessica started. She didn’t care if he truly didn’t know, she was calling him out all the same. He had omitted too many things in the short time she’d known him to take him at his word without further interrogation. She had no intention of letting him off that easy.

“I don’t know _much_ ,” he corrected, interrupting Jessica’s exclamation. “I was still in the basement when everything started crashing down. I managed to shield myself from some of it, but eventually it was too much and I blacked out.” He shuddered as he remembered that moment, the point when he’d taken one too many blows to the head and was suffocating on all sorts of materials crumbled into dust. He’d thought that was it - he wasn’t expecting to wake up ever again. Without a heartbeat to listen for, he’d lost track of Elektra in the chaos. Their recent team-up aside, he was mostly a lone wolf and he’d managed to push everyone else away. Yet he had never felt more alone than in that moment that the fire began to rapidly fade.

Jessica knew she was often less than forthright, but Matt tended to take that to another level. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel and she had to remind herself to stop before she damaged Trish’s car. “So, what, your zombie girlfriend saved you?”

He hadn’t been speaking loudly to begin with, but his tone softened even more before he said, “Maybe. I don’t know. Her heart never beat after…” he trailed off, not wanting to go into the details of resurrection again. He eventually continued, “So I couldn’t tell if she was still alive besides her breathing and by the time I passed out there was so much noise I couldn’t be sure. Apparently a building falling on you is really loud and overwhelming, who knew,” he joked weakly, his quiet voice cracking at the end.

Claire and Jessica shared a look, both unsure whether to believe him. He’d lied to them both plenty of times before, so they couldn’t put it past him now, especially when he very well could have something to hide about the situation.

If there was a single word to sum up Matt’s condition, Claire figured it had to be _exhausted._ Taking pity on him, she turned to Jess and whispered, “I think we should let him rest for now. He won’t be able to sneak out the window in this shape. We’ll get answers later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been awhile. I never intended for the wait to be this long. Won’t bore you with details but it’s been rough. Just a few things before we get started:
> 
> I need to mention that I have not watched any Punisher (I’ve been told it’s obscenely violent and that’s not my thing). I know Karen was in it but that is seriously all I know. So this story is completely separate from anything that happened in that show. 
> 
> As I’m writing this I’m realizing that I have no idea how long it would take for so many major wounds to heal, so I’m asking you guys again to just go along with me on some medical details that are probably questionable at best. I wasn’t really thinking about it when I set a timeline in the first chapter. I did look up how long stitches would be in and Matt’s definitely well past that point here but let’s pretend he’s still got some severe cuts that haven’t healed properly for whatever reason. Not being in a hospital will do that, m’kay. The nuns did their very best but they are nuns, not doctors. Also I’m sure nuns are pretty tidy ladies but the environment would still be far from sterile so there’s that too. 
> 
> Okay enough excuses, please enjoy :)

Matt winced as Claire removed the bandage from yet another of his wounds. He was fighting to keep a straight face but he couldn’t help but let out a hiss as she carefully examined and prodded at a slice that ran from his sternum up to his shoulder. “Is this really necessary?” he ground out with his jaw clenched. He had managed to ‘tune out’ the adhesive of the bandages against his skin for a while but he was very much aware of them when they were being torn off.  

Claire gave a quiet hum in answer and continued her task of checking his numerous remaining injuries. Matt hadn’t been enthused when she said she needed to check him over herself to assess the damage - he was much more inclined to deny any problems and keep the injuries to himself - but he still hadn’t anticipated the process would be this painful. If he’d had just one of these slices it would have healed completely in a fraction of the time, but being covered in them takes a deeper toll. Normally he could also filter out the pain better or at least focus elsewhere, but being so tired the sharp pangs repeatedly dragged him roughly back to reality. Claire insisted she couldn’t effectively treat him if she didn’t know the extent of each injury but a tiny part of him wondered if this was payback for letting all his friends believe he was dead for the last month.

He had been listening to various things to distract himself, most recently eavesdropping on the conversation between Jessica and Trish, who had come to retrieve her car. Their greetings had been like background noise but he was now quite focused on what the sisters had to say to each other. Trish was characteristically curious about why Jessica needed to borrow her car and Jessica was doing what she did best - being infuriatingly stubborn.

“You didn’t wreck my car, did you? What is there to be so secretive about?” Trish practically begged. Her tone was initially curiosity that morphed into suspicion and then determination to discover whatever Jess wasn’t telling her. Jessica’s refusal to give any details was making her steadily more anxious if the speed of her pulse was anything to go by.

Jessica exhaled sharply in exasperation before promising, “Your car is spotless and in the exact condition I borrowed it in. Do you really need to know more?”

“You promised you’d tell me what you needed it for when you got back.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

Obviously Matt couldn’t see them, but he was fairly sure his mental image of Trish glaring a hole into Jessica’s skull was accurate. He murmured to Claire, “Should we say something?”

The nurse responded with a slight shrug as she smoothed a fresh bandage across his bicep and turned her attention to his ribs. “You’re the one who didn’t want anyone knowing you’re here. Ball’s in your court if you want to save her from that,” she replied quietly, vaguely pointing towards the door.

Matt was torn. He felt guilty that his presence was causing her problems already but he really didn’t want people knowing he was alive and back in Hell’s Kitchen. At this point he had reluctantly admitted that telling Claire was probably for the best but he still wasn’t ready for any sort of homecoming announcement. Even calling Jessica had been something he struggled with until he decided she was probably the one he could trust most to keep this secret and not lecture him about his choices.

Trish was clearly not taking being shut out very well and just as she was about to storm out, Matt called out, “Jess, it’s fine. Just tell her.” He still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of another person knowing, but he knew exactly how well loved ones tended to respond to being kept in the dark and he wasn’t going to force another person to lie for him. Lies had destroyed so much for him and he couldn’t bear making anyone else’s relationships go up in flames the way his did.

The footsteps headed for the front door stopped abruptly and turned around. Jessica walked back to her bedroom and opened the door just enough to poke her head inside. “You sure about that?” He shrugged and nodded. “I’d say your funeral but considering that already happened, why the hell not,” Jess muttered before opening the door all the way.

Hesitantly approaching the door, Trish gasped and her heartbeat took off racing when she saw him sitting on the bed with Claire still working on a particularly bad gash on his back. At this point he was pretty sure it would never heal. Claire uneasily cleared her throat and awkwardly broke the silence by saying, “I think this one is infected. I’ll bring you something for that tomorrow…”

Eventually, Trish found her voice and managed to say, “M-matt Murdock? I-I thought-” she cut off mid-sentence, still trying to formulate a full thought.

“Trish, I assume?” he asked, keeping his head tilted down towards the floor, still feeling naked without his glasses.

Blinking in surprise, she answered, “I don’t think we’ve met. How did you know?”

He shrugged again, making Claire give him a light smack on an uninjured part of his shoulder for moving while she was working. “Doesn’t everyone know the voice of Trish Walker?” he asked a little too innocently.

“I thought you died in Midland Circle.”

“I believe everyone did, yes,” he replied curtly.

Narrowing her eyes and letting suspicion tinge her voice she said, “But here you are.”

Picking up on an uneasiness in her breathing, Matt realized Trish was probably reacting to more than his miraculous survival. Quietly, he asked her, “How much do you know about me, Trish?”

Her answer came quickly and was accompanied by the telling sign of a jump in her heartbeat. “Nothing, really.” Part of her felt guilty for lying, but she didn’t want to be the one to tell him that his secret identity had been quietly revealed to those gathered in the Harlem precinct who were not previously ‘in the know’. There had been so many unanswerable questions left hanging when he didn’t return, and Matt’s friends had decided it was better to tell Trish and Malcolm about him rather than risking letting them dig with no idea what they might uncover. Considering they were both very familiar with individuals who possessed ‘abilities’, they were surprised but had taken it well and obviously knew the importance of this information remaining a secret.

It was obvious that she was lying, and he decided to stop dancing around the real question. His voice dropped even lower as he asked, “Who am I, Trish?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied in an attempt to dodge the question, not realizing that he could read the countless signals she was unknowingly giving off - and they announced like a flashing neon sign that she was lying and intensely uncomfortable.

Matt sighed. “I think you do.” The words came out closer to a growl than he had intended. He realized Claire had stopped checking him over and was frozen, holding her breath. Jessica was leaning against the wall next to the door, drumming her fingers on it, watching like a hawk and waiting to see where this was going. “Just say it,” he demanded.

Perhaps the stress was too much. As someone with a great amount of experience in performing under pressure, she wasn’t often thrown, much less caught completely speechless and it only made her anxiety worse. She couldn’t bring herself to answer his question and the tension was approaching unbearable levels. She began to back away from the room without even realizing her body was instinctively moving her away from his suddenly belligerent behavior.

It wasn’t so much that he was actually worried about what Trish would do. She may have the resources to easily spread his identity like almost no one else in the city, but that wasn’t the real point. The issue was that it had been far too long since he had gotten to exercise this side of himself and now that his darker side had clawed its way out it was no simple task to rein it in. Pretending to be normally blind everyday had always weighed him down, but being stuck in a bed for the last month had been even worse. He had been itching to feel like he was in control again and the rush of intimidating someone was an addicting feeling…until he reminded himself who he was letting his pent up aggression out on. Claire cautiously reached to lay her hand on his shoulder, jerking him back to a more rational mindset.

Detecting how much this was upsetting her, Matt called out just loudly enough to be sure she’d hear while retreating, “Please wait.” She warily returned to where she had been standing before, but the distance between them felt more purposeful than it had a minute ago. “Sorry. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off.

Didn’t mean to _what_ exactly? Not only had he shocked her by just being alive, she was unexpectedly meeting Daredevil - not just Matt Murdock - face to face for the first time. She had been in the same room with his vigilante side once, but his aggression hadn’t been directed at her then. Despite how she had instinctively reacted here, he hoped she knew that he would never attack her. But he supposed that as someone who practically _was_ the media she must have reported on him before - so she knew exactly how violent he was capable of being. On top of that, he was guessing she had likely been told about him because he was believed to be dead. It was possible she was fearful for how he’d react to a basic stranger knowing his secret identity when it turned out he was not nearly as dead as everyone thought.

The apology seemed to have calmed her a bit more and he finally said with a slight, uncomfortable laugh, “It seems that whoever told you about my ‘abilities’ wasn’t very thorough. I can hear your heartbeat. I know when you’re lying.” When Trish didn’t say anything right away, he apologetically added, “I’m sorry I got carried away. Jessica trusts you more than anyone else in the world. So…I’m choosing to put my faith in you too.”

She waited cautiously for a moment to see if he continued. Maybe he would make a subtle threat or perhaps even dare to make an overt one. But once she realized he was now calm as could be and he really meant what he said, she was a bit touched by the sentiment and more than a little relieved. The unmistakable look of guilt on his face didn’t hurt either.

Just as she was about to assure him that faith was not poorly placed, her phone rang. Glancing at the number on the screen, she knew it was a call she’d been waiting for. She quickly gathered her things and addressed Matt, “It was good to meet you. Hope to see you again.” He felt a rush of relief when he listened to her heart and knew she actually meant it. She still seemed a bit on edge - which he couldn’t blame her for - and he was hoping he’d get the chance to make a better impression soon.

He smiled and responded simply, “You know where to find me.”

Not long after Trish left, Matt was ready to sleep and in a rare glimpse of hospitality, Jessica demanded he take the bed. He rather insistently offered to sleep on the couch and not put her out, but he relented after she threatened to duct tape him to the bed. Perhaps not the warmest hostess, but it was clear she was trying.

As exhausted as he was, he still couldn’t find sleep. By necessity, he learned a long time ago to take in the noise of the city as a steady background of consistent comfort rather than a million disturbances keeping him from rest. But tonight was different. His attention was dragged all over the city before his mind returned to more serious topics bouncing around inside his head.

If he was fully honest, Matt still didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want people to know he was back but he wasn’t sure why. He could find ways to justify it all day long, but all the reasons he thought of felt like weak excuses at best. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, he knew he couldn’t hide forever if he wasn’t willing to leave the city he loved. But for one reason or another, he dreaded letting any of the people he cared about know he was alive. The thought of any of his friends wanting him back in their lives felt like a laughable possibility that he was terrified to believe, as if the universe might offer him love and hope only to snatch it back. So for now, his return would remain a secret. It wasn’t a decision he was at peace with but he knew that the moment people knew he was alive he was throwing away any control he had left over the situation. Maybe even over his whole life. He told himself that he just needed a bit of time to prepare, but even he had no idea how long it would take for him to be ready to take that risk.

His life was built not only on lies to others, but also lies to himself. And this time, he couldn’t be sure whether he was lying to himself when he thought his friends wouldn’t want him…or when he dared to hope that they might. He wasn’t ready to know. He wasn’t ready to risk having all the hope he had left snuffed out. The idea of again having literally no one left to turn to hurt too much to think about.

Unfortunately, he never thought to make sure Trish knew not to share the big news.

 

X

 

_One week later._

It had been one of _those_ days for Karen. Her brain was scrambled and no amount of coffee had been able to make it right. Maybe the caffeine had no effect on her brain because it had all headed straight for her nerves instead, leaving her jumpy and scatterbrained.

She was so out of it she almost forgot that she was supposed to get together with Trish for lunch. It was even something she normally looked forward to. In the police station, the two blonde women had discovered they had more than just their appearance and crime-fighting friends in common. They were both willing to kick any hornet’s nest they came across in pursuit of the truth and absolutely relentless after catching the scent of anything that wasn’t quite right.

Trish may have been on the air much longer than Karen had been writing for the paper, but she really looked up to Karen for her bravery and how much impact she’d already made in a relatively short period of time. So they got together about once a week to chat and vent and talk about work. The previous week was a busy one for Trish, so this lunch date was their first in nearly two weeks.

Karen rushed into the restaurant, practically stumbling and falling into a chair at the table across from where Trish was already waiting. Compared to Trish’s seemingly endless reserves of poise she felt like a frazzled cliche of someone clearly in over their head. “Hi,” Karen said breathlessly. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

“You’re fine,” Trish reassured her with a sympathetic smile. “Rough day?”

“Ever feel so overwhelmed that you can’t remember a time when you weren’t?” she asked with a shaky laugh.

“Oh, have I ever,” she replied, but with the way she always exuded grace, Karen wasn’t sure if she could believe it. Trish picked up on Karen’s skepticism and asked sympathetically, “What’s on your mind?”

The question wasn’t as easy to answer as Karen would have liked. It wasn’t work. When she had taken the job at the paper, Ellison told her it wouldn’t all be scandal and corruption and major headlines; he said he needed to be able to count on her to write basic pieces between the big, exciting stories. But for the last month she hadn’t been doing much of either.

For anyone who knew Karen, the timing of her hiatus was no mystery. Even those who didn’t know her could recognize the air of sadness and confusion she carried with her. It wasn’t quite the same as what most would recognize as grief; there was something else about it difficult to identify. Karen wasn’t exactly sure either. But the more she waited for it to fade the deeper in dug into her soul. Some days it felt like she’d never be whole again, like maybe he’d always hold a little piece of her.

In answer, she attempted to smile and said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

So they didn’t. Not for a while, at least. Karen was having a particularly rough day and not really holding up her end of the conversation, so Trish did her best to keep their time together interesting and light. But still her mind wandered as well. There was a pause in conversation while they both picked at their food. It worried Trish that Karen barely seemed to notice the silence that she would normally attempt to fill.

Matt had been back for a whole week, so how much time had Karen spent with him? She would have thought Karen would be in better spirits by now. Trish had gathered that no one - not even his friends - had been expecting his return. Maybe there was some negativity stemming from that? Loss was a strange thing and as much as people tried to make sense of it, there was something to it that would never be understood or put in words. Besides, not many people who mourn a loss have that loss undone, so Karen’s in a very unique situation. There was so much research and advice available about dealing with grief, but there was probably nothing in the world to help her through whatever shock she was feeling in this bizarre scenario.

Trish couldn’t honestly say she’d ever known Karen when she wasn’t mourning, and she had no way of knowing what she was normally like prior to the whole incident. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to help this somewhat broken woman she considered a friend, especially when she was so clearly still hurting. “Karen, you seem worse. Is this about Matt?”

Karen’s mind was obviously elsewhere, and she seemed startled when she was brought back to the table. She laughed incredulously. “Seriously? Isn’t it always? It’s not like it’s anything new.”

Trish would later regret not picking up the meaning of that sentence. “Not new? What are you talking about?”

She smiled that sad smile that adorned her face so often these days and answered bluntly, “He’s still dead.” The other woman jumped as she said this. Karen looked at her strangely, shaking her head. “He’s still gone. I’m still a wreck. Foggy’s still distant. Nothing’s getting any better. Everyone keeps telling me the same things. They keep telling me it gets easier. That it will always hurt but you find ways to move on. I don’t know how long that’s supposed to take, but…I’m so damn _tired_. People have the nerve to tell me you can’t rush this process, as if that’s reassuring!” She burst out, holding in a sob and a long moment later continued softly, “As if knowing I have no control over this misery that’s destroying me is going to make me feel better. Everything that is supposed to help just makes it worse.”

Trish stared at her, jaw dropped and realizing her error. It was the second time in a week she was stunned speechless. It’s been a week, how has he not contacted her? Blinking, she tried to figure out a way to salvage this conversation without giving away something she was never meant to know and wasn’t her place to tell.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to work that out fast enough, and Karen looked at her suspiciously. “Unless there _is_ something new,” she thought out loud. Her breath caught as she gasped, “You know something, don’t you? Did...d-did they find his body?”

Having found a shred of poise, Trish tried to tell her, “Look, I’m sure you would have found out soon. It’s just that I was at Jessica’s place a week ago-”

Karen cut her off, “A whole week ago? But…what? They found his body, didn’t they? You’re being…they must have found something. What does Jessica know?”

Trish gulped. It wasn’t her secret to tell, as much as she knew Karen deserved to know. Her friend was somehow looking both relieved and devastated at once and it broke her heart that she couldn’t be the one to fix it. “I really shouldn’t say anything,” she finally found the voice to say.

Karen’s eyes turned cold as she angrily whispered, “You’re really not going to tell me? I thought you were my friend, how could you keep something like this from me?”

When it was clear Trish was going to remain tight-lipped about what she knew, Karen stood up and glared at her, looking undone. Her tone icy, she left with the words, “Have a good day. It was your turn to pay anyway.”

Desperate to perform damage control, Trish whipped out her phone to call and warn them that Karen was probably going to be showing up unexpectedly in the near future, and not in a good mood. She never would have imagined that a whole week would pass without Matt getting in touch with all his friends, especially Karen. Her chest felt tight as she realized he must have a pretty strong reason not to make contact, and she had made a royal mess of the whole situation. After calling twice and getting no answer, Trish grimaced. This was not going to be good for anyone.

 

X

 

Karen rushed out of the restaurant, pulling on her coat and trying to catch a cab. She must have looked pretty manic, because a few seemed to slow for her and then continue on without stopping, despite being obviously empty. Eventually her luck turned and she managed to catch one and gave the driver Jessica’s address. Luckily, she knew where she lived. Jessica had helped her with something small she’d been trying to investigate a few weeks ago, but it ended up falling through, partly due to lack of leads and partly due to Karen’s lack of drive to pursue anything in the last month.

Her thoughts were a giant mess, and she tried not to think about what this news meant. If they found his body it was officially, undeniably over. She had given up on any other possibility weeks ago, but it still felt like her chest was being crushed at the confirmation. She thought back to when she’d sat with Foggy in that church, saying it felt like it wasn’t over. Like there was still some chance.

That possibility faded soon after that. At this point her only hope was for closure when they finally found him, but her chest hurt as she thought of how it would feel when it was official. When no doubt remained and they could finally bury him properly. Since Karen had been the only one still holding any real hope after his funeral, she hadn’t paid much attention to the others discussing getting Matt a headstone. She knew they’d done it and secured a plot near his father’s, but she had made a point of not being involved. It was hard enough without seeing his empty grave. But now that she thought of actually burying him it was even worse and the gaping hole left in her chest seemed to keep growing.

Mourning anyone was a painful, uncertain process. But when the relationship with the person lost was as confusing as hers with Matt, everything was a little different. She thought back to when they had sat in that diner together less than a week before he died. Awkward would be putting it nicely, but he had seemed content. In general she had developed pretty good memory for conversations, but the part about Daredevil was branded into her brain more than any other. He said he didn’t miss it. That it felt like a completed chapter in his life and he didn’t want to look back. She’d reassured him that Daredevil had made the city a safer place and she distinctly remembered his next words: _The city’s better off without him._ And then a week later he was gone.

Part of her was angry that he’d apparently lied to her face yet again. He _did_ miss it; it had never been over. But another part of her was angry at herself that she’d believed him. She should have known better. When he’d said that part of him was gone, she remembered feeling a wave of simultaneous sadness and hope. Sadness that their lives had taken this turn but also hope that if Daredevil was really gone they could possibly have a future. They’d taken time to ‘figure themselves out’ as she requested, and she was open to friendship at the very least. Maybe even more. In fact, it would be a lie to deny she wanted more.

His words in the police station had hit her like a truck but she had to admit they rang truer than anything he’d said in that diner. This _was_ his life; at least some part of him would never stop being Daredevil. She still questioned whether that was the only option. She probably always would. Listening to the vague account the others had given of what happened that night, she didn’t want to agree with the choice he’d made. She especially didn’t want to face that he had met the fate she and Foggy thought he was finally safe from. But he’d done what he felt he needed and helped save the whole city because that’s just who he was. And it was pointless to pretend he’d have a single regret about it.

While she was relieved he had let her in on his secret, it left her unsure who he even was. That was the problem she was having while mourning him; he was still such a mystery. Was he Daredevil, delivering justice and saving the victims crying in the night? Or what he Matt, the blind lawyer who wanted nothing more than to help the innocent in a courtroom? The truth was that he was both and maybe sometimes neither. If he had come back, where would they have stood? She didn’t know if she was mourning a good friend or a past and possibly future lover or just a protector she owed her life to. All she knew was that she wasn’t ready to let him go.

A bitter piece of her wondered why she and Foggy could never be enough for him. The three of them had been a team. There was a time when Matt and Foggy were the only people she had in the world she could rely on - but that was okay, that was all she really needed. She knew Foggy felt the same. So why hadn’t Matt? He had taken all their lives off the rails because he felt like the life they’d built together was inadequate when two of the three of them felt not only contentment but pride for what they’d accomplished together.

She also felt bitterness about how she learned this news. Maybe she and Foggy weren’t supportive of his Daredevil activities, but she thought it went without saying that the two of them should be informed immediately if he was found. The plan was for Jessica, Luke, and Danny to each take turns keeping a close eye on the digging so they would know the moment he was found so he would mysteriously disappear before he could be identified. It wasn’t foolproof by any means, but it was the safest bet they had - and it was what they had all agreed on.

Karen suddenly realized that if Trish found out a week ago, had they already gotten his body to the cemetery? She knew that wasn’t a task for anyone without a stomach of steel and she wasn’t sure she’d have wanted to be involved. But having that option taken away twisted the knife. Several of the others - but especially Claire - had tried to gently remind her that the longer he went unfound, the worse he would look and that she probably didn’t want to remember him that way. That was likely true, but she liked to think she was important enough to him that the others would respect her enough to at least give her the chance to get closure by seeing with her own eyes if that's what she really wanted. But she also would have expected not to be told about the situation secondhand a week after it happened. She had no doubt Foggy felt the same -

 _Foggy._ Did he know? Had he been left out of the loop too? She didn’t especially want to be the one to deliver the news that they’d probably found Matt and neglected to tell his two closest friends. But she also didn’t want him to find out accidentally down the road like she had. She pulled out her phone and dialled Foggy’s number. It rang once and went straight to voicemail, asking for a message to be left after the beep. He was likely in court, she guessed. She had to tell him something at least. The beep came quickly and she didn’t have much time to figure out what that would be. So she anxiously left the message, “Foggy, it’s Karen. I was talking to Trish and I think Jessica knows something. About Matt. I’m not sure what; Trish wouldn’t say anything. I’m on my way to see her now. I’m guessing they found him but I don’t know for sure. Call me later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a detailed outline for the next chapter (and probably more depending on how deep I get into it all) so it shouldn't take as long as this did. 
> 
> But I’m going to be honest and say that what I have outlined is about as far as I had planned when I started this. I don’t want to conclude this without some good scenes with Foggy of course (and maybe a few others), but I’m not sure what that’s gonna look like. If anyone has any suggestions/ideas/comments about anything I’d be super happy to hear them. Wrapping up scenes and stories has never been one of my strengths so any thoughts at all are more than welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I usually get way more obsessed with making sure everything is just right but decided to just post this for you guys. I'll explain why in the end note :)
> 
> This one is a bit longer than the other chapters so I hope y'all enjoy!

In any other situation, staying in a single apartment for a week would make Matt insane. Actually, he was past that; he had passed the rational place of _well I need to stay somewhere safe and secret_ and veered into _oh lord let me out I don’t care anymore_ territory. He was itching to do something, but he didn’t have a lot of options. Most of all he really wanted to go to the gym and let out some pent up energy on a punching bag. But going there was too risky in more ways than one and he knew Claire wouldn’t approve yet. So basically he had spent the week rotating between thinking and meditating and generally trying not to go absolutely out of his mind.

Claire had mentioned that he was usually a much faster healer than this and it was true. Other than his tendency to get hurt again before he was done fully healing, he could usually bounce back from most of his injuries in a fraction of the time it took most people. He credited that ability to the meditation when talking to Claire or Foggy, but deep down he knew it was just in his blood. It was unnatural for a Murdock to stay down. Which was only adding to the urge to throw away all the worries weighing him down and just go do what he wanted and get some _air._

What was there to lose, really? He’d never be able to slip back into his old life, not fully. He had just finished that big case and he didn’t really have anything else going on with his job. He could probably never practice law again anyway, assuming his death was reported at some point. He imagined the state bar would have an opinion on a dead man representing someone in court. Foggy’s motives for bringing him his suit that night still weren’t entirely clear, but he was sure it wasn’t due to acceptance of that side of him. That would never happen. And judging from Karen’s shock the last time he saw her, he couldn’t expect to find any from her either. They were already out of his life and when he had needed to get them to police custody for their safety it only reinforced the fact that they were right to distance themselves from him. It made him sick that he endangered them again so it was best things stay the way they had been before Midland Circle. Better to let them get on with their lives that seemed to be getting better all the time without him.

The question was whether he should even tell Foggy and Karen at some point. The idea of disappearing without his friends ever learning that he’s alive was tempting. It would take all the extra emotion out of the equation. They wouldn’t have to pretend they wanted him around and he wouldn’t have to deal with the eventual rejection when they rightly decided they were done humoring him. It would all be simpler to just let everyone move on. His friends would have closure and he would do what he did best - disappear into the shadows.

Of course, part of him knew that wasn’t an option, no matter how enticing - though that part seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. Even if he chose to let some of his friends continue to believe he was dead he knew the ones who knew better wouldn’t let him just fade away. No matter how much she hid it, Jessica had a heart. She wasn’t about to let him die for real after believing for a month she already had. And there was no way Claire would let him go easily either. Since she made it clear she couldn’t be with him, he tried to think of her as just the nurse he called in emergencies, just a last resort. But they both knew that wasn’t accurate. ‘It’s complicated’ didn’t even begin to describe what their relationship was but it was useless denying they didn’t care about each other in some difficult to define way. And after learning of his survival, she seemed more focused on his safety than ever before.

He wasn’t even sure what he meant when he thought about disappearing. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to go. Even if he could get out of the city, what then? He had no idea where else to go or how else to live. It all sounded like drawn out suicide of some form. And while he would be the first to acknowledge that he wasn’t a particularly good Catholic, he couldn’t take a life, including his own. That just wasn’t on the table. Even if the rest of the world thinks he’s dead and gone, there’s no fooling God. There was no way the last act he would ever do on earth would be ending a life.

As his thoughts spiraled darker and darker, he tried to focus on something else. He ran his hands through his hair and pressed his back harder into the headboard of the bed he’d been basically living in all week. He couldn’t afford to keep going down this road in his head, so he let the city he loved swarm his senses.

Not everything that came to him was helpful. He could hear the couple downstairs arguing like they did the majority of the time. A few days ago it sounded like there was potential for their fighting to turn physical, and Jessica had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was forbidden from doing anything about it. So when he heard dishes shattering he turned his attention elsewhere and tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest as he ignored someone who may have needed his help.

Listening to Jessica’s other neighbors was often like a soap opera, to the point where he at times wondered if he wasn’t actually hearing these things and really had simply lost his mind. Living in his old apartment, he tuned out all his neighbors because he had things to do but now that he had nothing better to be doing he couldn’t help but listen to all the things in the buildings up and down the block. In one apartment there was a pair of twin sisters sharing a single guy and experimenting to see how long it took him to notice - apparently not for the first time. In another, there was a macho bodybuilder who loved to baby-talk to his cat. And in yet another, there was a man watching some kind of video - most likely porn from the few clues he had - in Japanese that Matt was pretty sure he _really_ didn’t want to know about.

Just as Matt was begging God to create earplugs that would work for him, he caught a smell he would know anywhere, and a familiar heartbeat accompanying it that made him soften for just a moment. _Karen_. But that moment quickly passed when he realized Karen was entering this building. In a very emotional state. Not good. He leapt from the bed and ran out to the kitchen to warn Jessica that a very unhappy person was coming to her door.

 

X

 

Karen hung up her phone and stared blankly out the window for a few blocks. The weather was worsening and the streets were emptying quickly. She felt similarly empty at this point and barely noticed when the cab arrived at Jessica’s apartment building. Paying in a daze, she made her way into the building quickly to get out of the cold and get this over with.

It’s common for people to feel tired after a highly emotional event, and just her time with Trish and the cab ride left Karen exhausted after the hardest month of her life. She knew the real emotion that would hit when she was told the truth was probably ahead of her, and she fortified herself for what she had to do next. For short periods of time anger was easier to wield than crippling grief, so she let the fire of fury at being left in the dark smolder for a moment before banging on Jessica’s door.

She heard quiet voices and the slamming of a door inside, so she knew someone was there at least. She continued violently banging on the door until she heard Jessica cry out, “Jesus, it’s open, just take it down a notch, will you?”

The door was indeed open, so she let herself in and saw Jessica leaning against her desk and taking a long sip from a bottle of whiskey. “Karen. Fancy seeing you here,” she said wryly. Karen could tell she wasn’t at all surprised by her being the one about to kick in her door; the anger boiled again as she thought how Trish must have called to warn her. If only any of these people would be as quick to let _her_ know when things were happening.

“Trish was acting weird at lunch when I talked about Matt. Said she couldn’t tell me why. But she did slip and mention that whatever it was, she found out a week ago from you,” Karen said with her voice almost a growl. “Thought I’d go straight to the source.”

Jessica failed to hide a groan and tipped her head back to look towards the ceiling as she slid her phone out of her jacket pocket. Two missed calls from Trish less than an hour ago…then three more ten minutes ago. _Lovely._ She knew Karen and Trish became fast friends based on similar investigative habits and dangerous levels of curiosity so it was unlikely Karen would be easy to shake off. She swore quietly and tried to figure out how to handle this.

Reminded again of just how much trouble Matt Murdock tended to attract, Jessica’s instinctual reaction was annoyance. Though to be fair, that was her response to _a lot_ of things. But this time she also felt strangely guilty. Matt had been insistent that people not yet find out he was alive and back in Hell’s Kitchen. So now not only had she told Claire and put him in a position to tell Trish, but now Trish had slipped up and told Karen something was going on. This was her fault and she knew she had to take care of it. It wouldn’t be an easy task, but not much about being Matt’s friend was simple.

“Look, I don’t know what she said but there’s nothing going on,” she lied as smoothly as she could when she knew Matt was only in the next room and listening intently to how this would go down.

Karen stood staring for a moment before she screeched, “Are you _kidding me_ ? I _know_ you know something, Trish basically said so!”

Wrinkling her nose, Jess replied while maintaining eye contact and shaking her head lazily, “And I don’t know why she would do that. There’s no news. You don’t need to be here.”

“Unbelievable!” Karen exclaimed. “You’ll have to make me leave, I’m not going anywhere!”

“Okay, okay,” she replied with her hands raised in surrender. “Can you at least calm down a little? My neighbors can probably hear you and they complain about me enough already.”

“I can imagine,” Karen muttered under her breath.

Jessica’s frown deepened at the jab but she let it slide. She was too busy moving on from feeling guilty back to her default annoyance. Trish had been about to walk out when he’d spoken up; he could have let her keep walking but he didn’t. He didn’t even _know_ Trish and he was willing to tell her, but now he was leaving Jess to deal with his close friend who deserved to know more than anyone. Her irritation wasn’t helped by the fact that he’d answered basically zero questions from either her or Claire in the whole week he’d been staying with her. Hell, he’d barely spoken at all until he noticed Karen pull up in a cab. As far as she could tell, he spent his time moping and listening to people like a creep.

Karen broke Jess out of her little bubble of exasperation when she asked, “You must have found him. How could you not tell his friends? We’re his _family!”_

“I swear to you, the people digging have not found his body,” she told her bluntly. That much was true.

“Then what is it? Trish seemed to think there was news.” Jessica shrugged and shook her head. Tears spilling over, Karen continued sadly, “I don’t need to be able to hear your heartbeat like he did to know you’re lying to me.”

Time to change things up. Matt generally seemed pretty driven by guilt, so Jess decided to take that strategy for a spin. Maybe she could get him to come out on his own. “Look, I know you guys were _close_ or something. Whatever, I never asked. But we know how _important you were to him_ and if there was anything, you’d be the _first_ _to know_. Like, _immediately,_ ” Jessica said. Karen noticed she was forcing emphasis in odd places, but continued to listen curiously. “That’s _what he would want_ , isn’t it? And what _you’d want, too_? For you to know _before anyone_ _else,_ right? If we’d found him, I’m sure _you’d already know,_ ” she finished cryptically.

It was clear that Jessica was getting at something but Karen had no idea what. If there was some message she was supposed to grasp from that, it had gone far over her head. She kept her eyes on Jessica, waiting to see if she had anything else to add. But it was clear she was done, having said all she was going to. Karen walked over to the desk and sat on it beside her, taking the whiskey bottle Jess had left there. She took a long sip. And then another. And then the tears began to really fall, completely out of her control.

Now Jessica was back to feeling guilt, but this time for hiding something so massive from this heartbroken woman. When she said she would keep this secret from his friends, she had assumed that meant not reaching out and not calling them up to inform them he was alive. She had no problem promising that she wouldn’t put effort into bringing drama straight to her door. But she never thought it would come to her having to lie to the face of his devastated friend. Jessica Jones may not be considered the most empathetic person out there, but even she had her limits. She wasn’t interested in being burdened with guilt when everything would change if she just got these two in a room together. Of course, Jessica wasn’t stupid; she knew that would just create a new round of emotion to deal with. But it had to be better than being lied to, right? Rebuilding had to start somewhere.

“Here’s the thing,” Jessica began. “If there was something…eh, no, damnit, I’m not gonna screw with you. There is something. But I don’t think I should be the one to tell you.” She thought she heard Matt swear in the other room and her shoulders sagged and she tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She had an idea of how upset Matt would be about this but she couldn’t bring herself to care. This was his last chance to do this on his terms. Either he would come out on his own or she’d drag him out herself.

She wasn’t going to be part of this anymore. She hadn’t signed up to be his doorman and as much as she still felt she owed him for leaving him down there in the first place, letting him hide was risking everything he said he wanted. He said he wanted things to go back to the way they were and he was shooting any chance of that to hell. He had promised he just needed time to think and figure things out, but the longer he waited the worse the fallout would be. Maybe the best thing she could do for him was save him from himself.

Upon finally receiving confirmation of news, Karen wilted. She still thought the only possible news was his body being found. Jessica couldn’t blame her for that; this whole situation was pretty unbelievable. But she also couldn’t help but think of how optimistic Karen had been at first. It wasn’t bad enough to be delusion, but it had still been frustrating to be around. The contrast between the hope she held then and the dejected look on her face now was extreme.

“Who should I talk to then?” Karen asked faintly. The fight had apparently left her and exhaustion seeped into her voice.

“He’s really that important to you?” Jessica asked. There must be something that would make him see that he needed to be the one to tell her. And that it needed to happen _now_.

Karen answered without hesitation, “Absolutely.”

“Because I thought you weren’t speaking to him,” Jessica tried to lead her.

“For a while, yeah. But things were getting better. We weren’t really sure where we were with each other,” she explained with a sniffle. After taking another swig of whiskey, she went on, “We didn’t get the chance to…I guess now we’ll never know, will we?”

Jessica exhaled as she decided what had to happen next. Unsure how to tell someone _hey, guess what, the person you’re mourning isn’t dead_ _and is in the next room_ she began by telling her, “I’m sorry-”

“For lying to me since I walked in the door?” Karen interrupted, the anger she had when she arrived reawakening.

“I was going to say I’m sorry that I’m really not good at this…emotional stuff. But that, too, I guess.” After over two full minutes of silence - aside from Jessica’s frequent half-sighs and Karen’s crying - she called out a little louder, “Last chance.”

Karen’s tears slowed as Jessica’s increased volume left her puzzled. Was someone else here? Last chance for what? She suddenly recalled the hushed voices from earlier when she started her aggressive knocking. But who was here? What did it have to do with Matt? Her questioning mind was stopped in its tracks as Jessica gently took her wrist and tried to pull Karen towards a door deeper in the apartment.

The hold on her wrist was firm enough to lead her but loose enough she could have easily pulled away if she really wanted. From what she knew about Jessica, she must have been putting effort into keeping her grip soft. She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, but instinctively held firm against being dragged. If she hadn’t already been so utterly exhausted, the contact may have brought back memories of the various assaults she had endured, but instead all of her energy was being expended on her instinctual reactions.

Jessica loosened her grip even further and said quietly, “Please just come with me.”

For a moment Jessica wondered if she had crossed a line until Karen nodded a moment later and moved to follow her willingly. They came to a door and after apologizing again, Jessica opened it and gently pushed Karen in before following behind her.

Immediately Karen’s breath caught as she saw who the other voice had been. _Matt_. She looked him up and down, so far beyond shocked she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to close her dropped jaw. He was standing with his back against a wall across the room, one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead pushing hair out of his face as he glared at the floor and tried to calm his heavy breathing.

Matt finally turned his head to glare in Jessica’s direction, directing all his fury towards the doorway where she still stood. Despite fully knowing who he was intending to glare at, the look on his face was so intense that Karen didn’t want to be anywhere near its path and unconsciously took a large step away from the door and towards the bed. Jess broke the tense silence by groaning and telling him, “You know I think feelings are gross, don’t look at me like that. You had your chance.”

After glaring through more awkward silence, Matt sat down on the end of the bed and put his head in his hands. Jessica took that as her cue to leave the room, telling him over her shoulder, “Your friend drank the last of my whiskey. I’ll be back, see you kids later.”

Karen couldn’t stop staring at him. He was injured and upset but also _alive_ . How was this possible? She was jarred from her staring by the sound of the front door of the apartment slamming, signaling that they were alone. The shock was still there, but she felt a sudden surge of anger accompanying it. “ _Matthew. Michael. Murdock._ ” she said, each name louder and angrier than the last. “Oh, and in case you’re curious, you know how I know your middle name? It’s not because you ever shared it with me or anything. It’s because it was in your _obituary_.”

Ignoring the venomous comment, he finally greeted her in a whisper, “Hi, Karen.”

It was nearly impossible to process the disbelief mixing with joy from hearing his voice again, and it temporarily dampened her anger. “Hi, Matt,” she managed to get out, her voice breaking on his name. A few more tears fell as she sat on the bed beside him and asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

With a grimace he responded, “Does it matter?”

She turned so she could watch his face while they talked, both to read him better and because she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man she was sure she’d never see again. “Maybe. Maybe not. Won’t know ‘til you tell me.”

“There’s not really anything to tell. It really doesn’t matter,” he tried to insist, but he didn’t have the fire in him to make it at all convincing.

Karen narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Considering that she could hardly believe that he was here next to her and that he definitely looked like he had been seriously hurt that night, she couldn’t imagine much of that story was inconsequential. “Tell me anyway,” she said, anger over the situation again barely contained. Part of her wanted to just wrap her arms around him and never let go. That part wanted to say _screw the story, he’s here, just be grateful_ . But there were other questions that would need to be answered, like why he didn’t tell her he was alive. And if he wouldn’t tell her how this even happened, there was no hope that answer would be easily obtained. And she _needed_ to know. What had happened that he wouldn’t want her to know about something like this?

Matt pressed his lips together and tried to figure out how to tell this story. There was no denying that he was a secretive person and that was at odds with how he now had someone who cared about him who just wanted to know what happened. But that didn’t change that he couldn’t give details he didn’t have in his memory. Small things had been coming back to him since it all happened, but the majority of his memories of that night were simply not there and the ones that were didn’t make much sense without context. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

She huffed a short laugh in disbelief before turning serious again. “Tell me anyway,” she repeated, over enunciating each word.

Sighing, he said the dreaded words he knew would not be enough to satisfy her, “I don’t remember most of it.”

“Uh-huh. Of course you don’t,” she said, her words clipped and caustic.

“I know you don’t believe me.”

“No kidding,” she responded shortly. Her chest was hurting with the struggle of what to do in this situation, but she barely noticed. It was nearly impossible for her to walk away from a conversation like this without answers. And her chest hurt even more at the idea of turning her back on the miracle she’d been dreaming of for the last month that was now sitting next to her. But she could only take so much. If he wouldn’t tell her the truth, what hope was there for the two of them? This reunion with Matt was being ruined by his sadly predictable secrecy and her heart sank further as she admonished herself for expecting anything else.

As Matt focused on the tiny details he could gather from her about her mood, he realized he didn’t need to. He knew Karen well enough that he didn’t need to listen to her heart or smell her tears or feel her temperature rise in anger. While he was no mind reader, he knew from experience how Karen felt about mysteries. They were meant to be solved at any cost and vague answers like he just gave were an insult. She had endured more than enough silence and mystery from him. And it didn’t matter if he really didn’t remember; if he couldn’t answer her questions then she would relentlessly seek her answers elsewhere. He knew Jessica was pretty unlikely to kick him out due to an interrogation from Karen but it was a risk he didn’t want to take.

“I probably wouldn’t believe me either,” he admitted quietly. “I’ll tell you what I can remember. But I swear to you, it’s not much.” She hummed to signal for him to go on so he began, “I don’t know how much anyone told you. But we were in the basement of Midland Circle - it was more like a cave, I guess - and I hung back, told them to go without me. I…there was something I needed to do before leaving.”

He knew before he said it that Karen would pick up on the vagueness of that statement, but to his surprise she just shifted uncomfortably and silently waited for him to continue. He started to reach for her hand but stopped himself - he didn’t deserve the relief that would come from her touch and he couldn’t handle the rejection if she pulled away. “The, uh, explosion. It collapsed the building. I didn’t make it out, obviously. From there it’s really fuzzy. Someone got me out. I don’t know who. I woke up in a convent in the middle of nowhere. I was so hurt that for a couple weeks I barely knew what was happening. After the third week I called Jessica. Asked her for help, help getting me back to the city. I asked her not to tell anyone but she brought Claire…and she used Trish’s car.”

Far too much of his story was ‘fuzzy’ for Karen’s taste, but it was something. He was clearly trying. And the reason Trish knew about his reappearance was coming into focus. The inquisitive side of her wanted to press for more but she held it in despite knowing some of the vagueness of his answers had nothing to do with memory. She knew how Matt kept his secrets carefully guarded and had to acknowledge that getting this much was significant. Making mental notes about clarifying questions to ask later, she cleared her throat and said, “Thank you, Matt. I, uh,” she hesitated and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, hoping her next sentence would come out right. “You must know what I’m going to ask next.” Her words were blunt but came out in a whisper, her voice shaking minutely.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back.

Karen made an incredulous face and leaned away from him in surprise. “Seriously? I find it hard to believe you don’t know what I want to ask you about this.”

“No, I know that. I meant I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.”

Squinting at him, Karen pointedly asked, “Is your memory _fuzzy_ on that, too?”

He winced at her tone and forced himself to start explaining before he lost his nerve. “I really missed being Daredevil. I know I said it was in the past but it was a lie, I guess. I tried so hard to move on, I really did. It was obvious pretty quickly that the injuries were taking a greater toll than I thought and I can’t deny that I was healthier when I stopped going out at night and let myself heal all the way. But when I tried to distract myself from everything that I can hear at night it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t whole.”

She was grateful to finally hear his honest answer about how he was doing rather than the lies he told in that diner, but it wasn’t as much of a relief as she’d hoped. She couldn’t be sure that anything about that week would have been different if he had been honest with her; it was unfair to both of them to assume that simple honesty would have been enough to change anything. But she couldn’t completely fight the bitterness that rose in her at his confession. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I was in denial. The win in court that day felt like a good thing and I’m glad I could help that family. But it didn’t feel right. I expected to feel so much more satisfied by the outcome but it just wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same,” he concluded. He was struggling with how to put the difference into words and eventually gave up and just sat silently.

“That’s a discussion for another time,” she said with a threatening hint in her voice that suggested to Matt there would be no escaping that conversation when she decided they were going to have it. “But I don’t see what it has to do with not telling me you weren’t dead.”

As much as Matt was dreading this topic already, this was the part he really wasn’t ready for. He had hoped that Karen would understand what he was getting at when he mentioned Daredevil and fill in the gaps herself, but she was pressing harder into something Matt was reluctant to put into words. “You and Foggy don’t approve of Daredevil. I tried doing what you guys wanted for me. It didn’t work. I ended up buried under a building wearing those horns. It’s pretty clear I’m never going to be the person you guys want me to be.”

There was a sinking feeling in Karen’s gut as she began to realize what Matt meant, but she hoped she was wrong. He couldn’t mean that he thought they wouldn’t want to know he was alive, could he? They disapproved of Daredevil because they thought it would get him killed one day. That day came - or so she thought until this afternoon - and she was still fighting a lingering emptiness on a daily basis over a month later. Even if Matt didn’t realize the extent of the grief she was dealing with, it broke her heart to think that he thought she wouldn’t want to know he was alive, no matter what stupid choices he’d made along the way.

Karen remained silent while she tried to figure out how to tell him how wrong he was without also kicking him when he’s down and calling him an idiot. Unable to find the right words to express the sentiment, she tried to hide the hurt she felt as she said, “I still don’t see how that stops you from telling us. You think we don’t care if you’re alive?”

The question made Matt shift in discomfort. It wasn’t quite that he thought they wouldn’t want to know. Foggy and Karen are good people; he knew they would want to know he’d somehow survived. But that wasn’t what had driven his decision to hide.

“No - that’s not…” he trailed off. He finally began again, “I’m not sure where to go from here. I don’t know how I’m going to explain my disappearance. I don’t know if Matt Murdock is back. I don’t know if I’m going to say this was all some crazy misunderstanding or if I’m just going to use a fake name and leave my old life behind or what. But considering how I tried to stop being Daredevil and failed spectacularly, it’s probably going to be part of me forever.”

The grief squeezing her heart tightened more. Matt had had weeks to think about this but so did she. She had spent the last month trying to figure out if it was possible to save him and what, if anything, she could have done to change what happened. It was an idea that had clung to her, unwilling to let go. And most of those _‘maybes’_ hadn’t been _‘maybe if we stopped him from going into that building’_ or _‘maybe if we had known what he was planning’._ They’d been _‘maybe if we hadn’t cut him off’_ and _‘maybe if we told him we loved him anyway’._

Karen hadn’t realized how lost in thought she was until she was startled by him speaking again. “And if Daredevil is part of my life, I know you guys won’t be. I’d like to say I’ve made peace with that, but I’m still working on it. But I put us all in danger and you’re allowed to say you don’t want to be part of that. You’re allowed to be happy without me,” he smiled sadly as he said it and hoped she could still see while he kept his head down as if fixated on the floor. He needed her to know he wasn’t fishing for pity; he truly wanted his friends to be happy and safe more than anything else. Their happiness meant so much more to him than his own. After all, they deserved it far more than he did. He finally summed up, “I figure if I’m going to be on my own I should work all of this out on my own.”

Her guilt left her speechless for a moment and she wished the clarity she suddenly felt was showing her a less painful image. She should have known better than to think time apart and tough love would ever change anything about Matt, especially regarding Daredevil. He was a fiercely protective person with a history of abandonment issues and they had not only left him on his own but also pushed him into shutting down the part of himself that drove him to protect others. They had taken _everything_ from him - he was left with only guilt about the only thing that made him feel whole.

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or Foggy?”

“Like I said, I’m still working this all out. It’s a decision I’ve been having trouble with.”

“I don’t see how it’s even a question.”

Matt frowned and defensively replied, “And how should I have started up this conversation? Do I call you up on the phone for a chat about how I’m actually alive? Show up at your door just to say ‘hi’? Maybe drop you an email you think is just a cruel prank?”

“That’s not what I meant…but point taken,” she responded sheepishly. “I never meant to imply any of this is easy for anyone. But I don’t understand why you ever considered not telling us to be an option.”

“I thought maybe it’s better-”

“-It’s not,” she cut in.

He sighed heavily and paused to make sure she was done before going on, “I thought maybe it was better to let everyone grieve and move on. I feel bad I put you through this in the first place but if I let that be the end of it, you wouldn’t have to keep worrying about me or anything. I can’t keep letting you guys down if I’m dead and you’ve moved on with your lives.”

Karen shook her head sadly and told him, “I’m sorry you ever thought we would rather you were dead than Daredevil. That’s…I’m gonna be honest, that’s pretty messed up.” She saw his shoulders sag and realized too late that he had taken that statement personally. Maybe she could get through to him another way. “You’ve talked a lot. Is it okay if I talk now?”

Matt bobbed his head and murmured agreement but Karen stayed quiet as she gathered her thoughts. He wasn’t sure what was coming next, but he still mainly felt dread in his stomach. The best he could hope for here was a lecture. On what, he wasn’t sure yet, but the options were plentiful. Daredevil, his supposed death, his actual survival, not informing Karen he was alive….

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I missed you,” Karen spoke suddenly. “It makes me sad. Listen to my heart when I tell you I’m _overjoyed_ that you’re alive and sitting next to me. Don’t pinch me because if this is a dream I don’t want to wake up.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how enthusiastic she was and he hoped his blushing was less visible than it felt on his skin. But it didn’t change that he was waiting for this all to crash down around him. It had to be just around the corner, her next sentence had to start with ‘but’, and he realized he was holding his breath.

“Cheesy, I know, but I’m actually kind of serious. Mourning you was…really hard because I don’t know what we even are anymore. Even before I thought you died I missed you, by the way. God, remember how awkward it was in that diner? I think we both missed each other and didn’t want to be the first to say it. So let me: I miss you. But…”

_There it is_ , he thought bitterly.

“But I’m really hurt. I can’t believe I was out there in that other room, distraught over the possibility of hearing they found your body from _Trish_ ….and you could have stopped me. You could have fixed all that hurt and you didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re talking to me as much as you are now but it hurts that you were going to stay back here while I was crying in just the other room-” She cut off as a few fresh tears formed. “And I’m so _sorry_ that how we left things had you thinking I wouldn’t love to know you’re okay. That’s on me. But my mind keeps circling back to how I owe this reunion to _Jessica_ and not you.”

“I miss you, too,” Matt whispered sadly. He wasn’t sure how to explain why he didn’t come out. Jessica gave him a lot of chances to do it but he panicked and stayed in the bedroom, hoping Jess wasn’t actually going to do what he thought she was about to do (and she did). “I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve put you through, really, but…I don’t understand why you can take time to ‘figure yourself out’ and I can’t.”

Karen felt herself stop breathing as he spoke. Everything in the world seemed to go still when she heard her own words come from his mouth but turned around. She had taken months of time for herself and maybe she was being unfair not offering the same understanding he had given her when they finally met again.

He heard her breath hitch and worried he had crossed a line. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t being entirely fair; the circumstances were dramatically different. But before he could backtrack, she finally spoke, “Okay. I…I guess that’s fair. Just know that, um, I really hope that you end up calling me, okay?”

Nodding, he almost couldn’t believe that she was responding this way. His mind was racing as she left his side and walked to the door, and he didn’t notice that she had turned around until she spoke again. “Just one more question. Why won’t you look at me? Did I do something wrong?”

His eyebrows raised at the question and he wasn’t totally sure how to answer it. He’d been keeping his head down almost constantly lately. It dawned on him that he’d been _living_ with Jessica for a week now and had barely lifted his face towards her until glaring at her when she brought Karen back to him. He was about to tell Karen he hadn’t noticed he was doing it, but he now realized that as a consequence of his history of dancing around questions it wasn’t likely she would believe him if he said that. “Just that…I don’t have my glasses,” he lied awkwardly.

As soon as Karen spoke, he knew he’d made a mistake and his lie only hurt her more than he’d realized it would. “Oh. Is…is this how far we’ve fallen? You’re not comfortable letting me see your eyes anymore?”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he mumbled and both of them knew it was a pathetic excuse.

“Then look at me. I know you hide a lot of things from everyone. But you don’t need to hide from me.” She stepped closer and bent to put a hand on his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek. She straightened back up but kept the hand on his shoulder. “I hope you call me. Soon,” she whispered. “And trust me, Foggy would love to know you’re okay too. But I won’t tell him yet. Just to be clear, I mean that _you_ should, as soon as you think you’re able. Don’t wait forever.”

After a deep breath and a gentle squeeze of his arm, she turned and walked out, resolved not to cry until she was safe at home and out of his hearing range.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up early this morning to get this chapter posted because...I am getting a puppy today after losing my childhood dog about 5 years ago. I'm super excited and nervous and I didn't want to wait to get this posted for everyone. So if there are any errors or major inconsistencies or anything please let me know and I'll fix those up. I'll be updating the tags for this chapter later. 
> 
> Hope you guys liked the chapter and as always I'd love to hear any thoughts you guys have. Next chapter will probably feature Matt finally actually talking to Jess and Jess running into Foggy. That's the plan, anyway.
> 
> Update Feb 18: I got my little guy (mother was a yellow lab/hound, father unknown, but he's 100% adorable) and named him Foggy. My friend told me it's not as cool as if he were a seeing eye dog but I still love the idea of my own shaggy little blond Foggy running around. He then also told me that I need to start throwing things at blind people until one catches something so I can find a blind ninja for him to befriend. We'll see about that. 
> 
> Writing the next chapter has been slow because of taking care of a puppy - always crawling in my lap or chewing my feet or having to walk him has made writing difficult. But I am still working on it even if progress is slow. I want to thank everyone who has read my little story and hope you'll hang in there with me :)


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